Tastes Better On Your Tongue
by digthewriter
Summary: Ron/Draco. One Shot. Draco turned to look and saw the familiar red hair, the somewhat sexy freckles, and the eyes so intense, they had the ability to make Draco forget his own name. Nevertheless, Draco wouldn't, couldn't, forget his own name when it came to the Weasley.


**Title**: Tastes Better On Your Tongue

**Rating**: R  
**Type**: Fic  
**Warnings or Content**: Club!Fic. Draco/OMC mentioned. Background: Ginny/Blaise, Harry/Charlie, Hermione/Neville  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters of Harry Potter, they all belong to J.K. Rowling. This fic was written for fun; no profit is being made.

**Summary**: _Draco turned to look and saw the familiar red hair, the __**somewhat**__ sexy freckles, and the eyes so intense, they had the ability to make Draco forget his own name. Nevertheless, Draco wouldn't, couldn't, forget his own name when it came to the Weasley._

* * *

"You've got a fan." Draco looked up from his drink towards Jacob, the bartender, who was gesturing at someone behind him.

Draco turned to look and saw the familiar red hair, the _somewhat_ sexy freckles, and the eyes so intense, they had the ability to make Draco forget his own name. Nevertheless, Draco wouldn't, couldn't, forget his own name when it came to the Weasley.

Weasley was the first one ever to laugh at it.

Draco turned around and shrugged at Jacob. "Not my type," he said.

Jacob snorted and walked away. Draco didn't need to be told that he wasn't fooling anyone.

"Malfoy."

Draco took in a deep sigh and looked at the man that sat on his left.

"Weasley."

"You didn't come into the office today."

Wanker had the audacity to act casual and strike up a conversation. "Took a personal day," Draco said.

"Hmm..." Weasley released a sound as if he was contemplating something. "Care to dance?"

Draco tilted his head to give Weasley a once over. "I thought you didn't dance." At least that's what the git had said at his sister's wedding to Blaise six months ago.

"I don't," Weasley replied.

"So..."

"I thought I'd watch you dance. Shake your arse for me as I stood there and maybe I would wrap my arm around your waist and..."

"I don't shake my arse," Draco snapped.

"I know. Usually you have someone else rub their arse up on your cock before you take them home or drag them to the back room."

Draco scowled. "You been watching me, Weasley?"

"Come on, Malfoy. I've seen you dance before. You were getting all cosy with Charlie at Zabini's stag party and Harry had nearly hexed your balls off."

Draco chuckled. "Yeah, that was a good night. Your brother had paid me to make Potter jealous." They had been at the same club that night too; it was the only wizarding gay-friendly club that had a "no reporters" and "no cameras" policy.

"He did?"

"Yeah. A dragon egg I needed for one of my researches."

Weasley laughed and he turned around on the bar stool to get Jacob's attention. His leg briefly brushed against Draco's and Draco inadvertently shivered.

"What are you drinking?"

"Fireball," Draco said and gulped the last bit of it.

"Two of the same," Weasley said to Jacob.

"I thought you said he wasn't your type?" Jacob spoke as he poured them two _very_ generous servings of the cinnamon whisky.

"He's not," Draco said and Weasley simultaneously uttered, "I'm not."

Jacob shook his head and pushed the glasses towards them. "On the house," he said and walked away.

"He must like you," Weasley said and Draco chose to ignore him. "You shag him, too?"

Seriously! What was this jealous ex-boyfriend routine Weasley was putting on? "Since you Gryffindors are so good at stalking, I figure you already know," Draco retorted.

"He's straight," Weasley said and Draco rolled his eyes.

Draco took one big gulp of his free drink and looked over at Weasley again who hadn't even touched his. "What?" Draco asked.

Weasley licked his lips and before Draco could even think, he'd grabbed Draco by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Weasley pushed his tongue in and swirled it around, tasting Draco.

When he pulled away, Draco had barely any breath left inside him. "What the fuck was that?" he asked.

Weasley shrugged. "I reckon it tastes better this way," he said.

Draco frowned and turned away. "Get lost," he grumbled.

"Come on, Malfoy, do you know how long I've been wanting to do that?"

"How long?" Draco sneered.

"I don't know, since Hermione left me for Neville," he said. "Well she didn't _leave_ me; I mean we'd both decided that it wasn't working since I'm essentially—"

"A git?" Draco said.

"I must be if I want you to be the one sucking my cock," Weasley responded.

"I'm not interested."

"Why not?"

"The first time I met you, you laughed at my name," Draco said. "And you never apologised for that, even now, when we practically work together every day."

"Fifteen years ago?" Weasley said almost in disbelief and Draco didn't answer. "Remember when you nearly killed me in sixth year?"

"I apologised for that!"

"Yes. And I forgave you. And Harry nearly killed you in sixth year and he apologised for that too. Then we saved your life the year after that..."

"Yeah, after I'd saved your life at the manor."

"So I think it's suffice to say that all debts are done and paid for, aren't they?"

Draco scowled.

"Fine!" Weasley released an exasperated sigh and didn't hide the fact that he was rolling his eyes. "I'm sorry, Draco Malfoy, that I laughed at your name when we were eleven years old, but in my defence, you were trying to steal my best friend."

"You'd just met him!" Draco argued.

Weasley shook his head. "And you'd just met _me_. There was no reason for you to be such an arse."

"Whatever!" Draco said, pushing Weasley's arm out of the way and grabbed his glass of the fireball. He drank the entire thing in one go and turned to look at Weasley again. "Want a taste?"

Weasley didn't hesitate and pulled Draco in for a kiss again. This time, he bit and sucked on Draco's lower lip and his nails bore into Draco's thigh. "Come home with me," Weasley murmured against Draco's lips. "I'm dying here, Malfoy."

"Fine," Draco said, pulling away, "However, I think I'll have that dance, after all." He stood up and walked towards the centre of the club and turned as Weasley was still seated at the bar. Draco gave him a look of: _Well, what are you waiting for_? but, Weasley didn't move.

Draco scoffed and dug deeper into the crowd of people. He figured that if he disappeared from Weasley's line of sight, then the plonker _would _come running after him. In the middle of the dance floor, Draco locked eyes with Shane. He was a regular like Draco and a while back, they'd both wanked each other off in the alley behind the club; after that, they'd gone about pretending it never happened and Draco was fine with that. He liked to keep his casual fucks casual.

"Who was the bloke with his tongue down your throat? I thought you didn't kiss," Shane shouted into Draco's ear. The music was loud and Draco figured that they would have trouble speaking normally.

Draco shrugged. "Just some bloke. Practically begged me to take him home," he shouted back.

"Yeah? Well that _some bloke_ is staring daggers at me," Shane said and Draco turned to look. By the time he turned around, Shane had left.

"Who was that?" Weasley was by Draco's side in no time and as he asked his question, his hot breath over Draco's skin made Draco shiver again.

"A friend," Draco answered.

Weasley's hands found their way up Draco's sides and under his shirt. "I thought you were going to dance," he said, burying his face in Draco's neck.

"Make me," Draco said and wrapped his arms around Weasley's waist. They stood there, in the middle of the dance floor, music thumping as the strobe lights glimmered around them changing the hue of Weasley's red hair with each beat.

Weasley's grasp on Draco's ribs tightened and he pulled Draco toward him, rubbing their groins together. Then he slowly started to move side to side at the beat of the music, looking self-conscious, struggling to seem nonchalant.

Gryffindors, you had to hand it to them sometimes.

The friction of Weasley's denims against Draco's silk trousers was almost impossible to bear. It also didn't help that Draco's own hands had started to explore Weasley's skin. He was beginning to have trouble breathing again.

"Bloody hell," Draco mumbled, resting his head on Weasley's broad shoulder and taking in his smell. "I'm in so much trouble."

"You have _no_ idea, Malfoy," Weasley said before he tightened his hold on Draco and Apparated them away.

* * *

_**END**_


End file.
